


Document 1

by WolfyDearest



Category: Wolfy
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfyDearest/pseuds/WolfyDearest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is rather graphic, and an unfinished vent of my more angry self at fictional characters. More to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Document 1

The sound of her shrill screams annoyed me, so her voice box was first to go. I picked a blade from my instrument table, and ran it down the length of her throat. I loved the wet sound the flesh made, as her soft skin split under the cold, sharp edge of my knife. The blood was minimal, since I had done my best to avoid major arteries. I didn’t want to make a mess, nor did I want this experience to be over too soon.  
Her panicked whimpers only spurred me on, and the fear in her eyes sent excited chills down my spine. She struggled against her leather restraints, but they didn’t give, not even an inch. I smiled, my teeth, filed to points, shined in the light of the nearby fire oven. The smell of burning wood and blood permeated the air, and I loved it.  
I kept smiling to myself as I took my knife, no more than a crude, homemade scalpel, and sliced the flesh around her larynx, being careful not to damage her windpipe too badly. It was hard, but I managed. Her breath came in short huffs, as I withdrew my knife, and brought out the sutures. I sewed up her neck, so she could breathe properly again.  
I could tell the morphine in her system was wearing off fast, and that the fun was about to begin. I silently watched as her body tensed, and her now-mute mouth opened to scream. Her tongue moved wildly about her mouth as she tried again to scream.  
I decided that her tongue bothered me, so I turned to my table of instruments, and picked up a pair of surgical tongs. I knew that behind me, she was writhing in panic, her body arching and folding, in an attempt to break free. I laughed quietly at the thought.  
When I turned back to my victim, I graced her with my voice.  
“Now, darling, this wont hurt a bit if you don’t struggle” I didn’t lie. I knew ways to make things pain free. If only they would trust me. But they never did. And I was glad they didn’t. Part of the fun was seeing them struggle, seeing them sweat, as the pain overtook them. And just as they were about to go numb to the pain, I’d put an adrenaline shot into their system. They would be awake for it all. For however long they lasted.  
I raised the tongs to her mouth. She decided to defy me, and clamped her mouth shut. I sighed and raised my other hand to hold her nose shut. She had to breathe sometime. I absentmindedly marveled at how my long black nails looked on her pale skin. I made a mental note to take pictures of my next victim.  
I jammed the tongs into her mouth when she gasped for breath. She nearly bit her tongue off in an attempt to shut her mouth again, but I was faster than she. I moved my hand from her nose, and smoothed her hair down.  
She was a very pretty girl, only 18 or 19. Her thin black hair hung down to her hips, but I had tied it to a hook so she had limited range of movement. She was built very nicely. She wasn’t model-skinny, she had curves, but they looked good on her. The black makeup she wore was running down her cheeks, and her hazel eyes stared up at me, full of defiance, and steely will to live.  
I shook my head as I found her tongue with my tongs. I took hold as she realized what I was about to do. I waited for her to do what I expected. And, invariably, she did. I smiled as she whipped her head to the side, thus tearing her own tongue. Her body jolted from the sudden pain, and she clamped her eyes and mouth shut. I pulled, hard, on my tongs, ripping the pink muscle from her mouth. I walked over to the fire and dropped it in, watching as it caught fire and charred. I stared into the embers for a while, just enjoying the crackle and pop of the fire, over complete silence.  
I ran my fingers through my hair, as I walked back over to where she lay, on a stone slab, in the middle of my basement. I remembered when I had first brought someone down here. It had been a boy. Daniel, his name had stuck with me for many nights afterwards, appearing in my mind along with his dismembered body, causing me great guilt. I vividly remember how his hair had shaded his eyes as he drew his final breath. And I remember the rush that came from then dismembering him. I tried my best to remember how I had killed him. Poison, maybe? I couldn’t be sure, as I had killed so many before I discovered that I could dismember them while they were still alive, and that it was much more gratifying. How I had lured them into my traps, though, was much more memorable. For most men, it’d be promises of sex, and money. Sometimes I even gave them what they wanted before I got what I wanted. Most often than not, that’s how it was. I was not at all cruel. Just a bit… insane. The women, though, they were tough. More rewarding, too. I’d have to kidnap their boyfriends, or give them ‘jobs’ that required them coming to my estate. Oh, yes, women were much more fun.  
I looked down at the girl. I preferred not to remember names as I did my business, as it made it that much harder. But, as I looked at her, her name flashed before my eyes, very clearly. Elizabeth. What a pretty name. A name that she and I shared.  
I surveyed her body. She was shaking, but trying not to show it. I admired that about her. She had struggled every bit of the way, and even now, she was trying to act tough.  
I searched around the room quickly until I found what I was looking for. I stuck the large railway spike into the embers of the fire, and then grabbed a pair of scissors off of my instrument table.  
I took the scissors and cut the bottom of her shirt open. She did nothing. I silently wondered if she had already slipped into numbness. I’d have to check. After cutting her shirt completely open, from the bottom up, I began with her bra. It was a lacy thing, and I recalled her telling me that she was going to meet her boyfriend after my ‘job’ interview with her.   
She shivered gently at the cold air on her skin as she stared up at the concrete ceiling above her. She pulled at her restraints once again, but I was sure she already knew it was hopeless. She was going to be here for the rest of her life, for however long that may be.  
I yawned and threw the shredded clothes into the fire, where the railroad spike was still sitting.  
“Don’t move, ill be right back,” I chirped at my victim. She squirmed at the cheeriness in my voice.  
I made my way to the door that lead upstairs. As I climbed the spiral staircase, I hummed to myself. I was a bit uneasy. Elizabeth had proven to be too much like me. When I was chosen to become the next in the long line of killers, when my best friend’s brother kidnapped me, to take me and kill me, I had reacted like her. But he had seen some light in my eyes, some animalistic quality, that caused him to stop and make me his apprentice.  
Something deep inside, my humanity maybe, ached for me to see the same light in her eyes. The only thing was, it wasn’t there. And I couldn’t stand to lie to myself. So I’d just have to finish my business.  
As I reached the top of the stairs, I noticed I was shivering. I shook my head, and opened the door to the rest of my house. It was a very big house to be living alone in. To be quite blatant it was more of a mansion.  
The rooms were all inspired by different eras. The one that lead to the basement, the one I was in now, was modeled to look like a modern day Parisian living room. The walls were light pink, and the furniture was all white and elegant. There were various paintings by the door that lead downstairs, as many a night I had come upstairs, and wiped my bloody hands against the walls.  
I walked down the long hallway to my bedroom. My cat had heard my footsteps on the thick carpet, and came to follow at my heels. His name was Sir Daniel, because he had showed up the night after I had killed the boy named Daniel. In fact, the boy was the reason I even let the cat into my house. His gentle heart had touched me, so I couldn’t refuse.  
Sir Daniel was a fire-tip Siamese, and he was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen, save for my first lover. I opened the door to my bedroom, and nearly swooned. The beauty of this room, modeled after Victorian England, wasn’t something you could get used to. Sir Daniel meowed, demanding attention. I walked to my closet, and rummaged around for a wool sweater. I ended up with a baby blue cardigan, but I wasn’t about to go all fashion insane, so I put it on over my V-neck. I then sat on the bed and pulled Sir Daniel onto my lap. He purred from the slight pampering I was giving him.  
“Now, Sir Daniel,” The cat looked up at the sound of his name, “You’re going to have a fantastic meal tonight!”  
I smiled as he purred louder. Sometimes I think that Sir Daniel could understand what I was saying. At times I even ventured as far as thinking that he was the reincarnation of the original Daniel, who had never wanted to leave my side. When I had victims, I always cooked up Sir Daniel some nice, fresh meat.  
With a stretch and a yawn, I got up and wandered into the kitchen. I always had coffee brewing, so I made myself a cup. Sir Daniel weaved in between my feet as I stood, looking out the window into the back yard.  
I could barely see the trees in the distance that marked where bodies were buried. The trees ranged from fully-grown apple trees, to sapling pine trees. As I looked outside a bunny hopped out from the shrubs that surrounded one side of the yard. Sir Daniel jumped up on the windowsill to paw at the window and meow at the bunny.  
I picked up Sir Daniel and put him on one shoulder, where he perched quite often. I smiled as he nuzzled the side of my face. With one hand I picked up my cup of coffee, and with the other I steadied Sir Daniel as I walked.  
As I headed back downstairs with my cat and my coffee, I thought about what I’d do to my victim next. I remembered the railway spike I had left in the fire, and I thought about the possibilities I had.  
I set Sir Daniel down when I reached the door to the basement. I opened the door with a slight flourish and Sir Daniel hopped onto the cobblestone floor ahead of me.  
I set my coffee down on my instrument table, as I gazed down at my victim. Her throat was sewn up quite sloppily, now that I was examining it. But it would have to do. There was a bit a dried blood encrusting her lips, and I was sure that she had to swallow quite a few mouthfuls to keep from drowning in her own blood.  
She seemed to be asleep, but I knew better. Her chest was rising and falling with the shallow, frantic breaths she was taking. Her hands were trembling ever so slightly. Yet she was unaware. I could call her name, and she wouldn’t respond, even if she could. She was in what I liked to call ‘The Numb’.  
I allowed Sir Daniel to perch atop the stone slab where my victim was resting, and he stared up at me with knowing eyes. He pawed at the girl in front of him; with eyes that displayed the hunger only he and I could know in that instant. The hunger of a fresh kill.  
I danced across the room to a small refrigerator that I kept down stairs. It had only two uses. One use was for fresh meat, and the other was for the storage of  ephedrine.  
I took a syringe from the shelf above the fridge, and filled it with the drug. Sir Daniel mewed with impatience.      
“Now, my dear, you can't be Numb for too long. That wouldn't make it fun for me, would it?” I took the girl’s wrist and jabbed the needle into a vein. I had never once missed my mark. I quietly wondered to myself why i had never become a nurse, with the medical skills i possessed. Then my mind reminded me of my thirst for blood.  
I pushed down on the syringe’s plunger, forcing the ephedrine into her veins. After i had emptied the syringe i removed it from her wrist, and tossed it into the fire. Sir Daniel rubbed his face against my arm, and i couldn't help but to smile.   
As the girl’s eyes fluttered open Sir Daniel ran his rough tongue along my victim’s wrist.  
“Hello, dear. Did you have a good nap?” I smiled down at her, smoothing my hand against her skin. “This is my kitty, Sir Daniel. You and he will become one, very, very soon. Actually...” I danced to my instrument table, and took a sip of my coffee. I plucked a scalpel from the metal tray and pressed my finger against its point.   
“Elizabeth. Can i call you Liz?” I let my voice become causal as i ran the dull side of the scalpel across her naked chest and stomach. “Of course i can. Now, Liz, what is your favorite part of yourself?”  
The girl shook her head, her hair having come undone from the knot somehow. Black hair went flying into her face, and i growled.   
“Don't you know that it’s rude to hide yourself from people of higher stature?” I took the scalpel and jabbed it into her right hand, my aggression startling Sir Daniel off of the slab.  
A sharp, pained wheeze escaped her ruined mouth, and she tried to shake the knife free. 

"Stop. It will only hurt you more." I growled, under my breath. I let her calm down before I picked up Sir Daniel and put him on my shoulders. "Now, I only need a tiny bit of your flesh, so that Sir Daniel doesn't get hungry"

With a slight flourish, I pulled on the knife in her flesh. She tensed, as if to scream, and thrashed from side to side.


End file.
